


Cold Tower

by Rachel_Lu



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Medieval Medicine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5186330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachel_Lu/pseuds/Rachel_Lu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is but a servant, a garden maid, under Prince John, a man she has always served but never met.  She has never had the feeling of being a princess, and certainly will not.  She is but a servant.  She is simply Rose Tyler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do you guys like AUs? I do. I like them a lot. I anticipate this being 6 or 7 chapters. Enjoy!!!!

The voice that called to her from behind her was a familiar one, and she turned around with a smile on her face. "Hello, Donna!" She called, waving her hand. The other woman, who, although much higher up in ranks than Rose, waved back and approached her, a broad grin on her face. 

Donna dried her hands on her apron, obviously having just come from the kitchen. "I'm finishing up supper, you about finished?"

Rose looked down at the garden she'd been tending, which was, for all intents and purposes, hers, and put her hands on her hips. "Yes," she said slowly, as if she wasn't quite sure of it herself. "I wanted to plant more beans, but I can finish up for the night."

"You'll have time after supper, you deserve a break," Donna replied, furrowing her brows. "You're working yourself to death, love."

She lifted a shoulder. " 'S my job."

"Oh, I hope you get out of this godforsaken castle," Donna shook her head as they walked back towards said castle. "You're so young, Rose, too young to be doting on our spoiled brat of a prince."

"He's not spoiled," Rose protested. "He seems very kind."

"You say that, but you've not met him," Donna pointed out to her. 

"They didn't want me meeting him when I was young, remember?" Rose said, nudging Donna with her shoulder. "They say it's because I was wild as a child, but I think they just didn't want us to be friends because we're so close in age." She said the last part quietly, just in case a stray guard was around. 

"You're dead on," Donna said sadly. "They didn't want him playing with a servant, they wanted him playing with nobility. And he has, and now he's engaged to nobility and he's miserable."

Rose made a sad humming noise in the back of her throat. "Is he really? That's awful."

"He talks to me about it sometimes," Donna said quietly, "Complaining about dinners with her, says she's petty and irritating and has no personality. She's nothing but money, and... He hates it."

"If I'd ever met him I'd tell him I'm sorry for him," Rose said, "The wedding should be a laugh, at any rate."

Donna snorted. "True enough. I'm pretty sure you can meet him now that you're adults. Or, at any rate, you'll run into him."

Rose decided it was better not to reply. She wasn't necessarily looking to seek out the prince and have a heart to heart with him. She'd got along just fine working here for ten years without meeting him, and it didn't really matter. She'd heard enough about him, heard stories of how kind he was, but also how distant. She'd also heard he was handsome, but she tried to keep her curiosity about that little bit of information to herself. So she said nothing and walked alongside Donna back to the servant's entrance in the castle. 

She was sort of a fixture around there, having been a servant there since she was nine and had been orphaned. Since she spent most of her days out in the gardens, when she came back in, those who hadn't seen her all day called out to her. Jack, the keeper of the armory, let out a call of "Rosie!" And ran over to envelop her in a big hug. She giggled and hugged him back. 

"Oh!" She pulled away from him suddenly and looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry, Jack, I'm filthy!"

"Ah, hush, no you're not, you're looking lovely and you know it," he glanced down at her palms. "Might want to wash up a bit before supper though."

She laughed. "I was planning on it, Jack," she said, nudging past him to wash her hands in the water pail set out just for that purpose. He came up behind her and pinched her sides as he walked past. She squirmed away from him and finished washing up. Jack had always been like an older brother to her; she wasn't sure what she would've done in her early years without him. 

"Rose Tyler!" Harold Saxon, who was the keeper of the servants at castle Gallifrey. He wasn't necessarily a cruel man, but he also wasn't a particularly kind one. Rose didn't like being called by him, because usually the servants he called were given the tasks that nobody else wanted. She winced inwardly at his call. She wiped her hands on her gardening apron and hung it up on a hook by the door. 

"Yes, sir?" She curtsied deeply to him, ducking her head. "What may I assist you with?"

"None of that, stand up," Harold pulled her up roughly by the arm. "I need you to bring the Prince supper. He's been writing up a law all day, and will not be moved to come down to eat."

Rose felt her stomach sink. Really? She had admitted to herself, a long time ago, that she didn't think it was a good idea for her to meet the prince. But, of course, she could not refuse Harold's request. It would get her thrown out of the castle, and she had nowhere to go. 

"Yes, sir," she said obediently, walking to Donna, who was preparing a tray for the prince. She waited patiently as the tray was garnished and made to perfection before taking it from Donna with a slight bob of the head. She ducked past Saxon, and started heading down the first corridor.

Of course, she knew where the prince's room was, everyone did, so they knew to stay out of it. She knew better than anyone because she was the one who was told to keep out more often than not. And so she did, she stayed where she was supposed to, away from the forbidden room, which held, for all she knew, a potential playmate. Now, she ascended the stairs as if she belonged in that space, though she knew she didn't. She tried to push those thoughts out of her head as she neared the West Wing, which held the prince's room.

She passed by the guards without comment, and knocked lightly on the ornate door of his chambers when she reached it. A distracted sounding "Come in!" Sounded from inside, and she let herself in. Shutting the door quietly behind her, she saw him for the first time out of portraits. Hunched over a desk, his head bent low and fringe almost brushing the paper he was working on, was the prince.

She'd been right, he was terribly handsome, and she tried to shove that thought out of her mind as quickly as it had come. She shook herself and looked to his dresser, which was certainly a wide enough space for the dinner tray. Before she could say or do anything, however, the prince looked up and fixed his eyes on her. He smiled softly, "Hello."

"Hello," she replied before she could think better of it and added a swift, "your majesty."

He shifted in his chair, a curious look crossing his face. "I'd like to think I know everyone in the castle, but I've never seen you before. What's your name?"

"Rose, sir," she replied politely. "I work in the gardens, that's probably why you don't see me."

"Have you a last name as well?"

"Yes, it's Tyler," she said. "Rose Tyler."

"A more noble name than mine," the Prince said, lifting his eyebrows. "Thank you for bringing something up, I appreciate it. Would you set it on that dresser for me?"

Rose nodded and took the tray to where she was told to, setting it down and getting ready to tear out of the room at top speed. The voice behind her stopped her. 

"Rose?"

"Yes, your majesty?" She turned back to him, hoping she hadn't seemed as eager to leave as she had been.

"Why have I never seen you before?"

She shifted awkwardly and was about to lift a shoulder and shrug it all off, say she had no idea, and run away. But somehow she knew she couldn't do that. He looked worried for some reason. Maybe he was the sort of man who wanted to know everyone's name. So she sighed a little bit to herself and prepared to actually speak to him.

"I've been here for about ten years, your majesty, and they found me an unsuitable playmate for you, so I was told to keep my distance. It has been an honor meeting you tonight."

Prince John furrowed his brows. "I'll have a word with Saxon about that." He got to his feet and extended his hand to Rose. Not even remotely sure what to do, she set her hand in his and he bent to kiss her knuckles. She dropped into a curtsy and he laughed, straightening again. "Rose Tyler, it is I who have had the pleasure of meeting you." He released her hand and clasped his hands behind his back. "I trust you won't be avoiding me from now on."

"I... I wasn't," Rose stammered in reply.

He smiled at her. "I know. You must be starving, working in the gardens all day, please, go and fetch some supper for yourself."

"Thank you, your majesty."

She turned back and this time got as far as to have her hand on the doorknob before the prince stopped her again by calling her name. She turned over her shoulder slowly, not knowing what he could possibly have to say to her now. 

"I'd like you to take supper with me, Rose. Bring a tray up here, I need your help with something. Besides, I like to know everyone who works and lives at the castle and I've only just met you. For all I know Saxon will shove you back into the basement or wherever he's been keeping you."

She was so shocked by his words that she had trouble not gaping. Instead she nodded. "Yes, your majesty, I will be back presently."

"Excellent. I will see you in only a few minutes."

She gave him another shallow curtsy before leaving the room. It took all her power not to flee back to her garden where it was safe. She knew nothing of helping a prince with whatever important work he was doing. She knew only dirt and plants and other things of that very nature. She took a few deep, calming breaths before making her way back down to the kitchen. 

"Donna, could you make me a tray?" She whispered when she got back.

Donna gave her an odd look. "For what?"

"The Prince asked me to help him with something and to take supper with him."

"Ah," Donna smiled at her. "Then Saxon was right to keep the two of you apart. He wants to be friends with you, Rose."

"He wants my help." Rose took the tray and kissed Donna on the cheek. "Thank you, I'll see you a little later."

As Rose dashed off, Donna shook her head. "The way that man rattles on? Not likely."


	2. Chapter 2

Rose wanted to pretend that her heart wasn't absolutely hammering in her chest as she made her way back up to the prince's chambers. What he could possibly need her help with was beyond her. She knew how lowly she was, of course, and that made her more than a little self conscious. She tried not to tap her fingers nervously on the edges of her tray for fear she would drop it. 

The guard who was up in the West Wing knocked on the door for her upon seeing her hands full, and the prince called for her to enter. 

"Thank you," Rose smiled at the guard as he opened the door, and she slipped past him into the room. The Prince was looking down at his work again, a quill pen in hand as he wrote something out. She knew the rules of being a servant, and knew the rules of being the lowest of the low, as she was. She settled herself on the floor near the Prince's desk, tearing open the chunk of bread on her tray.

She looked up into the Prince's confused face. She blinked, confused, not understanding why he was looking at her that way. "Your majesty?" She asked uncertainly, her heart dropping at the notion that she'd already done something wrong. 

"Why are you on the floor?"

Rose shrugged and looked away from him. "I... Aren't you supposed to... Aren't I..."

"No, no, stand up." Surprising her, the Prince reached down a hand to help her to her feet. She looked at him, shocked, and allowed him to pull her up. She blinked before picking up the tray. "Thank you, your majesty."

He walked to the other side of his chambers and pulled over an extra chair to the short side of his desk. "Sit here, you may use this half of the desk."

"Thank you."

He offered her a smile. "Don't be nervous. Relieve the tension," he bounced on the balls of his feet to demonstrate and rolled his shoulders as well. Rose felt the corners of her mouth quirk up, despite the feeling of nervousness that was coursing through her. 

His face lit up completely, and he leaned towards her slightly. "Was that a smile?"

"No," she turned her face away.

"You did, that was a smile."

"No it wasn't."

"Yes, it was, and I'll take it at face value!" The Prince crowed and sat down in his chair. "Have a seat, Rose."

She sat in the place he'd set up for her, trying to wipe the dumb grin off of her face. He was just being kind, he was always kind, she'd heard the lovely stories about them, and she had to say that she finally understood them. And they were all true. She took another bite of the bread and watched the Prince as he wrote, his loopy writing confusing her and intriguing her all the same. She fought down the questions she wanted to ask, instead waiting in the silence.

"What do you think of this?" He asked quietly, turning the paper towards her slightly. Rose looked down at the paper and back up at the Prince helplessly. He furrowed his brows in confusion, then watched her expression as her face contorted in concentration as she looked at the Prince's beautiful writing.

"Oh," his voice was so soft she almost didn't hear it. "I'm sorry," he said, turning the paper back to him. "I really am, Rose, I didn't know."

"It's quite alright, your majesty."

"No, Rose, that was terribly insensitive of me, that was awful of me."

"Really, your majesty, it's alright. Perhaps you could read it to me instead?" Now she was just trying to make him feel better, she didn't want to cause him any distress. 

He nodded, "That's a good idea, Rose, I'll read it to you," he watched the paper for a moment, then turned back to her. "It's... It's an idea for a law."

She watched him and waited for him to say something. When he didn't, she cleared her throat. "What is the law about?"

"It's a law prohibiting the killing of civilians who are prisoners of war. Too many people have died, why should citizens, even if they are our enemies?"

"I agree."

"And anyway- You do?"

Rose nodded. "Yes. I agree."

His chest puffed out a little bit at that, and he looked very proud. "Alright then, I'll read it to you, and you tell me if it's ready to present to my father in the morning."

"I don't know if I'm the best person for that, your majesty. I'm just the gardener."

"Well, whenever I see the gardens, they look brilliant. You're organized and careful, that will help me with this. Just listen." There really wasn't a commanding tone in his voice, but she really wanted to obey, regardless. She sat patiently and waited for him to begin.

He cleared his throat and read aloud. "'By decree of the Royal Family of Castle Gallifrey, Tardisia, it shall be stated that any civilian captured during any battle, be it domestic, war-like, or otherwise, will not be killed. The sanctity of life will be preserved at all costs. Any non-soldier held within Tardisia grounds will never be harmed." He stopped and looked up at her expectantly. 

It took her a moment to let it all sink in. "That is a brilliant idea," she said quietly. "I think you should tell his majesty the King about it."

The Prince looked very proud of himself. "You think so?" He let out a light laugh. "I just... I think I needed an unbiased opinion, and what better than someone who's never met me?"

Rose smiled. "That's very true, your majesty. If that is all you require, I should be getting back to work."

She made to stand, but he caught her by her upper arm. "I'd like it if you stayed, it gets awfully lonely up here. And I'd like to teach you to read, if you're willing." 

Blinking, Rose did her best not to let her face break into the biggest smile imaginable. She'd never been offered something by someone so powerful, obviously, and so she was completely dumbstruck. She nodded. "Your majesty, I would appreciate that very much."

"Excellent!" The Prince got to his feet and looked at her for another moment. "Please, call me John. No one does, aside from my father."

She bobbed her head in an enthusiastic nod. 

"Say it?" He implored.

"John," She said quietly, her voice sounding shy even to herself. "Your fiancee does not call you John?"

"No," he shook his head. "She's also a tremendous bore. Pull your chair over here, Rose, we'll start with the alphabet."

The more the two of them sat hunched over the papers together, the more it seemed to them that they really would've been excellent friends in childhood. John forced her to loosen up, telling her continuously to do so, and so eventually she did, and she was just as she was when she was around Donna, chipper and exciting and charming. She found John was a great deal of fun as well, and his laugh always made her laugh as well. He asked her how and why Donna had never taught her to read, and she explained that there was simply never any time.

"Well, there's time now," he said certainly. 

It was dusk when John realized Rose was squinting at the paper and having trouble making things out. He also, regretfully, remembered how it would be interpreted to have a woman in his chambers with him, servant or not. He glanced over at her, and the light illuminating her profile, the gentle slope of her nose, the curve of her eyelashes. She was beautiful. He shook himself. A beautiful woman in his chambers after dark, servant or not, would be trouble, no matter how much he wanted to stay and talk with her.

Her tongue came out to touch the tip of her upper lip, and he almost shuddered. He chided himself for his behavior. She did not come here for him to stare at her and think about kissing her. She'd just met him! But, she was so interesting, and clever, and he found himself liking her quite a lot, regardless of whether or not it was frowned upon. He sighed softly, and luckily, she didn't hear it.

"It's late," she murmured, standing up and starting to bustle about, picking up his tray and stacking the dishes to make her load a little easier to carry.

"Yes, you're right," he swiped his hand across his forehead and got to his feet. "Let me help you."

"This is my job," she reminded him, and it hit him in the face. It was her job. She was a servant. And he was engaged. To a woman who he knew didn't love him and a woman he didn't love just as much. It was all terribly unfair. And, after all, just because Rose had shown up into his life, it didn't give him the right to betray his betrothed. Even if he looked at her and sort of wanted to. He wished they'd been allowed to play together as children. 

"Goodnight, your majesty."

"Incorrect!"

She colored deeply and ducked her head. "John."

"That's better," He smiled at her until she looked up at him. "Join me tomorrow, Rose? I'd like to continue to teach you."

"The gardens-"

"Will be fine."

She looked at him for a long moment, as if not really understanding why he was offering her this kindness. Finally, she cocked her head to the side and asked "For supper as well?"

"Yes," John nodded. "That would give us a bit more time, I think."

She finished picking up the dishes until they were balanced across her arms. "Alright." She turned towards the door, and as he had before, he stopped her. She turned around slowly again, not knowing what he could possibly want with her now. She watched him inquisitively. 

"I'd like us to be friends, Rose, not just... Not a prince and a servant, or a teacher and a student. We were cheated of that as children, i believe, when they kept us apart." He paused, allowing it to all sink in for her. "What do you say?"

She wanted to befriend him. He was kind and entertaining and smart, everything she'd ever wanted in a friend her age... Or a something else her age. She cleared her throat and smiled. "Yes, I think I'd like that."

The way he beamed at her, one would think she'd promised him the moon. "That settles it all, then. Have a wonderful evening, Rose."

"You as well... John." She gave a shallow curtsy and John gave a disgusted noise.

"No curtsying, no bows, none of that at all. We're friends. That's all, no class separations when it's you and me." The look on his face was earnest, and she found herself agreeing immediately, even if that wasn't the intention.

"Alright, John. Goodnight."

She completely missed the soft smile that was on his face as she disappeared from the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Rose lived in a not-quite tower just off of the East Wing. It was the servants quarters, and although designed to look quite like the rest of the castle, the quarters were less than luxurious. Rose never had any reason to complain though, instead she listened to Donna do so in the mornings on their way to get to work. 

She found herself practically dragging herself up the stairs, feeling more exhausted than usual. She chocked it up to trying to learn how to read, that had to be a mental exhaustion of some sort. Maybe she just wasn't smart enough for this sort of thing. Maybe she shouldn't go back to the Prince the next night. No, not the Prince. John. He'd asked her to call him John. 

Before she ducked into her room she knocked on the door next to hers to let Donna know that she was alright. Just a moment prior to her being able to get into her quarters, the other door flung open and Donna stepped out, drawing a robe closed in haste. "It's late," she said curtly. 

Rose scratched her cheek and avoided eye contact with her for a moment before turning back. "Yes, I know, and I apologize, that's why I wanted to let you know that I was back."

Donna quirked an eyebrow, looking very suspicion indeed. "What were you two up to?"

Rose's answering blush seemed to tell Donna all she needed to know, but before she continue the conclusion hopping she was doing, Rose spoke. "He was teaching me how to read. He... He wanted to teach me how to read."

The other woman's face softened, her features smoothing out at the words. "Is that why he called you back, to have supper with him?"

"No," Rose shook her head. "There's a law he wants to pass and he wanted to talk to me about it, that's all. He asked me to read it, and... I couldn't. So he's teaching me, now."

Donna leaned against her doorframe and crossed her arms. "And how was that?" 

Rose fiddled with the end of her apron. "I don't know. He's very kind. He won't let me call him 'your majesty'."

"What?"

"Yes, he asked me to call him John."

"Reinette doesn't even call him John."

"His finacee?" 

"Mm-hmm," Donna nodded slowly. "I knew your sweetness would pay off somehow, Rose. Now get to bed, you'll have an early day tomorrow."

She smiled, already regretting staying in John's chambers so long, even if it was only until dusk. It was time she could've spent working, and somehow spending it with the Prince felt... Frivolous. She bid Donna goodnight and went into her bedchambers, barely having the energy to put on nightclothes before falling asleep. 

**  
The next morning, her night with John was all but completely forgotten. She had decided to put it out of her mind until she went to see him that night. She pinned her hair neatly atop her head, dressed for the day, and made her way to the kitchen. Because she'd lost so much time last night, she only picked up a chunk of bread and an apple before heading out to the gardens. 

She loved the gardens. They were terribly large, wrapping around the whole castle, and it really wasn't any wonder that Rose spent all of her day out there. The trees were large and fruitful and the paths well kept and the flowers and crops blooming splendidly. Of course, the castle got most of their food from elsewhere, but Rose grew vegetables and fruits in the gardens, and those were used in cooking. 

She made her way towards a particularly unruly bed of flowers, munching on her apple as she went. When she finally reached the bed and pulled out a spade, she was so focused she didn't hear the footsteps that were coming up behind her.

"Rose Tyler."

She jumped ad turned over her shoulder to see John behind her. She smiled and turned away from him, launching the apple core into the woods just beyond. John watched it fly, a curious look on his face.

"Why'd you do that?"

Rose shrugged. It hadn't occurred to her that the Prince might not understand things like that, simple things that the servants did, such as that. "The deer like to eat them," she said by way of reply. "S'what I do with all the weeds too, dump them in the woods for the animals to eat. Less of a waste that way." She squatted down on the path that ran through the flowers and dug her hands into the dirt. "What brings you out here this morning, my Prince?"

He wrinkled his nose at her. "Oh, come now, we've talked about that. I'm John when it's just us, please."

"I think you will find that there are always others lurking about. It will hardly ever be just you and me."

John crossed his arms over his chest, not seeming to believe her. "And why is that? The same reason they kept us apart as children?"

Rose lifted a shoulder, not raising her gaze to meet his until she had a handful of weeds. "I am a woman and you are a man. They most likely fear that I will take advantage of you."

His lip twitched. "Yes, I'm very afraid of you jumping me, Rose."

She smiled. "You may not be afraid of it, but it's what they fear. The only man they trust is Jack."

"The man who runs the armory?" 

"That's him."

"Oh." He was looking at her with an odd sort of recognition. 

She furrowed her brows at him and tucked the handful of weeds into a big pocket in the middle of her apron before squatting down again. "What is it?" She asked cautiously.

"I speak with Jack on occasion."

"Mm. Most of us do, you know."

"You're very witty. That wasn't my point."

She looked up at him and squinted at the sun, which was behind him. "Was there a point, your majesty?"

He gave her a stern look that only made her giggle and said, "Jack calls the gardens the 'Rose Gardens'. I thought that was odd since there's not quite that many roses."

"Not in this section anyways," Rose replied, "Just me."

"Just you."

"Yes." She continued her pulling of weeds and thinking that the Prince would simply continue on his walk. As it were, he stood there, watching her dig in the dirt, and she felt more and more self conscious the longer she felt him staring. She looked up at him and saw him smiling softly down at her. "Yes?"

He seemed to shake himself. "Nothing, you're just remarkable."

Her cheeks colored and she looked back down at her hands, shoving more weeds into her pocket. "With all due respect, I hardly think you know me well enough to say such things."

Though she didn't see him, he cocked his head and regarded her carefully. "From what I learned of you yesterday, I think it's a safe assumption to make."

Rose hummed in the back of her throat and shoved enough weed sin her pocket to fill it up. "Would you like to accompany me to the woods?" She asked as she stood, ignoring his previous statement entirely. 

"I would love to," John replied, and she gestured for him to precede her. He did so, fighting the urge to keep looking back at her, just to make sure she was following him. 

She certainly wasn't going to not follow him, though. She wanted to be close to him. It was really unexplainable, how drawn to him she was. He was her Prince, her leader, and yet here she was, finding herself wanting to get close to him, and yet knowing she could not. So she kept a few paces behind him, not wanting to get too close to him physically. 

As he reached the edge of the forest, she had to sod off the 'keeping-away-from-him' bit, because ahead of them was a deer. She ran up next to him and nudged him with her elbow, not wanting to get his white satin shirt dirty with her hands. Although, part of her really, really wanted to get his shirt dirty. However, she still had some bit of sense, and she supposed this was it. "Deer," she whispered.

He looked from her back to the deer, and he must've missed them before, but he certainly saw them now, because he let out a soft 'oh', and smiled in their direction. 

"Watch this," Rose whispered, and she edged around him and closer to the deer, reaching for her pocket, to pull out a handful of weeds. She whistled low under her breath and one of the deer perked its ears and looked up at her. She continued to whistle lowly as she approached the deer. It took a step towards her and pulled the weeds from her hand, munching it and looking at her. Rose smiled and reached a hand behind her, planning on beckoning John up with her, but instead, he slipped his hand into hers.

She nearly jumped ten feet, but she controlled herself enough to stay still and not startle the deer. He came up beside her and watched the deer with a look of awe on his face. Seeing the look, Rose handed him some of the weeds. "Here," She whispered, and he took them from her. Using her free hand, she pried his fingers off of the weeds and spread them out so his palm was up. She pushed his hand towards the deer slowly, and it took the weeds gently from him without nipping his skin. Rose grinned at him. "See?"

He nodded and let out a little breathless laugh. "That's amazing," he whispered. 

Tentatively, Rose reached her hand out and stroked the deer on the head. It allowed it, if only barely, than took a step closer. She whistled lowly again and it seemed to settle down, just a bit.

"Your turn," she whispered.

He reached out a hand, his other one still clutching hers and making her stomach do all sorts of strange things. He stroked the deer's head softly, and after a few strokes the deer had apparently had enough and bounded off into the forest. John's hand was still hovering in the air. 

Rose giggled and threw the rest of the weeds into the woods, along with the bread she hadn't eaten, and started to turn back towards the garden, loosening her grip on his hand. After a few moments, he let go, his reaction belated as she walked back towards the flower bed she'd been working in. He followed her a few steps behind, and when she turned, she saw him pulling out a handkerchief to clean his hand up.

She couldn't help but feel the symbolism of it, the fact that she was dirty and lowly in comparison to him. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I've gotten your hand all dirty," she said, looking away from him and back to her work.

"It's alright," he said hurriedly. "That was worth it, it was wonderful. Are they always so friendly?"

"Not always," she said, "And I usually don't make time to pet them like that, but-" she lifted a shoulder, "I thought you might enjoy it. It's definitely something you haven't done, correct?" 

"You're right," he agreed, "I haven't. Thank you."

She smiled. "It's nothing."

He didn't say anything, so she went back to her work. That was, until he cleared his throat until she looked back up.

"I must be going, Rose. Would you still like to have a lesson tonight?"

She'd expected that she wouldn't. But sometimes a person can surprise themselves. "Yes, I do."

He nodded, that same beaming look on his face again. "I'll see you tonight, then."


	4. Chapter 4

"You be careful, Rose Tyler," Donna warned as she scooped out two bowls of stew onto the same plate. She eyed her carefully, a suspicious look on her face.

Rose shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't do anything. And... And I'm not going to do anything, anyway. I'm just learning to read."

"It starts out that way," Donna shook her wooden spoon at Rose. "Next thing you know..." She trailed off.

"Next thing you know," Jack repeated Donna's words from where he was getting his own supper. "He's thrown you on his bed and-"

"JACK HARKNESS," Donna cut him off with a shout that would've done Rose's mother proud, bless her soul. Rose felt her cheeks color.

"I'm not doing anything," she murmured. 

Jack sighed and took a step forward to take Rose into a brotherly embrace. "I know, Rose, I was just having you on. Learn a lot for me, alright?"

Rose nodded and gave him a squeeze before stepping to pick up the tray that held her's and the Prince's bowls. She lifted it and shot both Donna and Jack a look telling them not to say anything. Donna was watching her with a wary look, and Jack had the general look of smugness on his face. 

She sighed and rolled her eyes before going to head up the stairs. The guard at West Wing remembered her this time, and nodded to her in acknowledgement. He knocked on the door for her and went back to his station, waiting for the Prince's reply from inside. 

"Is that Rose?" The Prince's voice filtered out from his chambers.

"Yes, sir," the guard replied.

"Ah, good! Let her in!" 

Rose couldn't explain the feeling of her heart pounding in her chest as the guard opened the door for her and she took a step in, keeping her eyes downcast. She walked towards the desk and set the tray on it before clasping her hands in front of her and dipping into a shallow curtsy. John sighed rather aggressively from his seat at his desk.

"Raise you up," he said patiently, and waited for her to stand. "I do not understand why you continue to act as though we aren't friends."

She leveled her gaze with him. "Because whether we are friends are not, you are still my better. You are still my Prince."

"John," he corrected her. 

"John."

Moving to take a step, her foot knocked into a chair. She looked down and realized he must've set it there for her before she came into the room. On some level, he'd been ready to see her, perhaps even looking forward to it. She set one of the bowls in front of him and then sat down in her seat. "Did you speak with your father about the law?" She asked.

At the mention of the law, John's face lit up and he shut the book that had been open on his desk. He turned, his knees brushing hers, and his hands twitched as though itching to grab hers. "He thought it was brilliant and said he'd talk it over with his officials. Isn't that fantastic?"

"Oh, John, that's wonderful!" She beamed at him, and before either of them could think better of it, they were both on their feet and had their arms around eat other in celebration. About two seconds into the embrace, she realized that she was holding him a bit too tightly, a bit too familiarly, and loosened her grip on him. After a couple more seconds, John seemed to get the idea and let his arms release her, his hands sliding along her waist before separating from her completely. Rose smiled up at him before sitting down again, deciding she was not going to make the moment uncomfortable. 

"Right," John sat down, and if she was understanding correctly, he sounded disappointed. "Would you like to begin?"

"Don't you want to eat first?" Rose asked carefully. 

John shook his head, "We can multitask. You did just that this afternoon, talking to me and charming the wildlife all at once."

She couldn't suppress her grin and she dared to scoot her chair a little closer to his before he opened the book again. "Right, so we've got the alphabet down, which really, Rose, is the meatiest part of the learning process."

The more he spoke, the more interested she became, hanging on his every word, sounding out certain sounds as he told her to do so, and reading short, simple passages from the fairytale book he'd chosen. The pages of it were worn but somehow beautiful, and she reached out to touch one as she read the words on it. 

"Did you have this as a child?" She asked quietly. 

"Yes," John replied, "It was one of my favorite books, I was always reading it, really."

"Thank you for sharing it with me," Rose said earnestly. 

He turned to look at her, a bemused look on his face. "You are remarkable, Rose Tyler."

She furrowed her brows at him. "I'm nothing of the sort," she said, surprised at how stern her voice sounded. "I'm nothing but a garden maid."

It was his turn to make a sort of face at her. "You're completely mad if you think that," he told her. "From what I've gathered of you, and seen, and experienced, you are kind, and clever, and adventurous, and compassionate. We could use more people like you in this kingdom."

Rose returned her gaze to the book and put her finger on the page where she planned to read from next, not wanting to address what he'd said. She'd never truly received compliments before, and now that someone was telling her nice things, the prince no less, she felt an odd sort of warmth that she knew she shouldn't address. 

However, she was forced to address it when suddenly his hand came up to grip her by the chin and turn her face towards him. "I mean ever word of that," he promised, his voice earnest and expression solemn. "I don't use pretty words, Rose, not when they're not deserved."

She watched him for a moment, knowing he was sincere but still not knowing how to take it all in. "I know you don't," she replied. "I can tell."

"But you do not believe me."

"I'm worth nothing," she gently pulled her face from his grasp and turned back to the book. "But, as I remind you, I would still like to learn to read."

"Yes, of course." 

They went back to their lesson, the air somehow thicker between them as he ran his finger over the page, his low voice rumbling through her as he pronounced the longer words that she found herself needing help with. The room seemed suddenly warm, as sometimes they would break from the lesson and talk about themselves. She told him of her childhood, of growing up in the castle and being forbidden to see him, never really knowing why. He told her about growing up as well, how his playmates were the most stuck up people he'd ever met, and that's how he'd ended up engaged to Reinette.

"You don't love her," Rose said. It wasn't a question.

"No," he said quietly. "She's my friend. But I never saw myself marrying her."

"Was it arranged?" Rose asked.

He nodded. "It was... Expected that I would marry her, and I could say nothing, not that I would purposely defy my father."

"You should be able to choose," Rose whispered, almost afraid to voice her opinion.

She didn't look over as John turned his head to her. They'd moved too close to each other, she could feel his breath on her neck and oh, that was lovely, and he was lovely, and this was wrong. His breath was shallow against her skin, she could practically feel his heartbeat speeding up.

"Rose," he whispered, his voice breathy and full of something she could only describe as awe. 

She wanted to ignore it. She started reading the book in a rushed voice, stumbling over words that she didn't understand or wasn't sure how to pronounce. 

"Rose."

"Yeah?" Her own voice was breathy now, her chest heaving because he was too close and too warm and too kind. She wanted him to talk to her for days, about nothing and everything, and she had a feeling that if she asked him, he would do just that. Especially with the way he was looking at her just now. She wished she couldn't see him out of her peripheral vision. 

"Who raised you?" He asked, his voice genuinely curious, "Who made you so fantastic?"

"Donna Noble," She replied. 

"Ah! That woman is a marvel." He looked at her, not sure what else to say, exactly. He knew he wanted to say something, because he was drawn to her, and he thought maybe he realized why the people in the castle kept them apart for so long. The smile that had crept onto his face fell slowly as his gaze when drawn inexplicably to her mouth. "Rose, look at me."

She was not reluctant in the way she turned to face him, but there was something burning in her eyes that he was afraid to identify, but it made him search her. They had themselves situated now so that both their knees were touching, and although it felt too close, the contact, even through all the layers, was delicious. 

A silence fell over them that neither of them was willing to address. Instead, they just stared at each other until John reached out and cupped her cheek with one of his hands. He leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. Rose felt her eyes flutter shut. He murmured her name again just before he pressed his mouth to hers.

She nearly trembled with relief, returning the pressure and getting closer to him, one of her knees slotted between his. His hand slid to the back of her neck, holding her there with a gentle pressure, silently telling her that she could move if she wanted to, but he didn't want her to.

Very slowly, and tentatively, she slid her hands up into his hair, feeling the softness of the strands under her fingertips. His hand moved from her neck to her waist, his free hand joining it on the other side of her. He tugged her with full force, her chair lurching forward so she was closer to him. Without thinking (and she really, really wasn't thinking) she pulled herself from her own chair, separating her mouth from his. He stared up at her, confused, and she ran her fingers over his cheek in a comforting motion. She lifted her skirts and moved to straddle his lap. 

She felt bold, doing it, knowing that if anyone in the kingdom knew she was doing this, she would be shamed for it, but she couldn't bring herself to care. John gasped the second she settled herself on his lap, his fingers tightening into her waist. His head dropped to her shoulder and he turned his head to kiss her neck. She rested her hands on his shoulders and tilted her head, giving him better access. 

Eventually, though, she couldn't take it anymore, and she wrenched him back by his hair before pulling him back up to her mouth. He went willingly, his tongue tracing her lips, begging for entrance. She heard him whimper as she opened her mouth to him and felt a shiver go through her at the sound. 

He tugged her forward on his lap, his hands tracing down to bracket her thighs, his fingers curling around them. He shoved her skirts up and traced his hands over his stockings, acting as though he couldn't get close enough to her. 

It was at that moment that it hit her. He was engaged. To a woman he didn't love, that much was true, but she still existed, she was still there, and she wasn't going away because Rose snogged the Prince. John. She pulled away suddenly and tried not to look at his swollen lips and lidded eyes. Every piece of her was screaming for her to go to him. 

She fought back the tears and tried to force herself off of his lap, but he dug his hands into her thighs and made that delicious whimpering sound that sounded more like a gasp at the moment, and she had to keep herself from looking at him.

"They were right to keep us apart," Rose whispered, not making eye contact with him.

"They were wrong," he protested, lunging forward to her neck, his mouth moving over her in big gulps, as though trying to devour her before she could leave. 

"John," She gasped out, "You're engaged."

He pulled back to look at her. "I could... I have to break the arrangement," he traced the backs of his fingers over her cheek. "Rose."

She covered her face with one of her hands, unable to remove both of them from him. She planned ahead in her mind, knowing she couldn't cry before leaving, the guard would suspect something. She lifted herself from his lap and started collecting the items from the tray.

"Rose, wait," he reached a hand out for her, but she avoided him. 

"John, this is why they didn't want us together as children, this is what they thought would happen to us, and I didn't think you'd be quite this-"

He shot to his feet and stood next to her. "What?" he demanded, "You're ashamed to say that you feel something for me."

Rose turned to him, her eyes tearful, but she willed them to stay back. "I'm not ashamed. I could never be the one ashamed, here. You belong to someone else, John, and I've lived here almost my whole life keeping what's mine mine and leaving everyone else's things and business alone. And that's exactly what I have to do now."

"I won't let you walk away," John said firmly.

"Is that an order?"

He blinked, shocked, at her words. "I would never force you to do anything," he said quietly. "I just want you to stay."

She choked on a sob and scooped up the tray. "This isn't fair to anyone involved, John," she said, "Have a good night, your majesty."

"Rose!"

She disappeared from the room before he could say anything to convince her otherwise. Somehow, she managed to hold her tears back until she was back in her chambers.


	5. Chapter 5

She fled down the stairs, only pausing to dump off the bowls and tray at the kitchen before running to her chambers. She didn't pause to knock on Donna's door and tell her that she was back. Once the door closed behind her she pressed her back up against it, finally letting the tears she'd been holding back run down her cheeks. 

Hugging herself tightly, she tried to contain any noisy sobs, in case Donna or Jack were to hear her. She knew, deep down, that she hadn't meant anything to him. He was engaged, after all. All she was was a last hurrah, something final before he was married. She didn't matter. It was better that she recognized that now. 

Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself off the door and changed into a nightgown, hoping to curl up into a ball and go to sleep. That went right out the window when there was a knock at her door. She looked up at the ceiling and blinked for a few moments, trying to contain herself. After she thought she'd put herself back in a good place, she opened the door, not to reveal the Prince, as she had thought, but Donna and Jack. She blew out a shuddering sigh at the sight of them.

"Are you alright?" Donna asked worriedly.

Rose slowly shook her head, and with that, both of them stepped in to hold her close. Donna murmured comforting words to her, and then moved her gently away from the door so she could shut it, giving them a bit of privacy.

"What's happened?" Jack asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed. 

She sat down next to him and tilted her head onto his shoulder. He let her be quiet for a moment as Donna shoved them both over, squeezing herself in next to Rose and rubbing her shoulder gently. 

Rose was quiet for a few moments, but when she took a particularly big breath, the story came out on the exhale, edited slightly once she got to the kiss, to protect both of their honors. Donna let out a muffled gasp at the part, which set Rose into more guilt and crying. She scrubbed her hands over her face. "Oh, Donna... I was almost his... His lady of the evening!"

"Rose!" Jack nearly shouted, "You are no one's lady of the evening. You didn't do anything-"

"But I did!" Rose interrupted. "He's engaged, he's the Prince for God's sake! That's why they kept us apart."

"Well, we can't let you near him again, can we?" Donna said smartly. "You're not going back, are you?"

Rose shook her head miserably. "No, I'm not going back."

"Are you going to be alright if we go, Rosie?" Jack asked softly. "It's late."

Rose nodded. "Yes, I think I'll be alright. I've got it all out. Thank you."

Donna and Jack hugged her once more and bid her goodnight before disappearing from the room. Donna sent her a last, worried look, and Rose thought she'd never been more grateful for their friendship. She couldn't stop thinking about the Prince, and she knew there were many reasons for that. The biggest one was the fact that she'd been calling him John. He'd asked her to, and even his fiancee did not have that privilege. He must've wanted her only for a mistress, a body to warm his bed when his wife wouldn't be there. She shuddered at the thought.

Not able to take it anymore, she got under the thin covers on her bed and burrowed down, curling into a ball. The only thought she could have was that maybe she wouldn't have to see the Prince anymore. After all, she hadn't seen them before all of this had started.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

***

The next morning, Rose was in a better, if groggier mood. She went down to the gardens early, working in the vegetables, which were almost ready for harvest. She'd have to call in Jack to help her with some of the heavy lifting. For now, though, she would weed and tend the plants, and unless something was terribly ripe, let it all grow. 

She wasn't anticipating the sound of footsteps behind her, but years of having people out of eyesight taught her other ways to listen for them. She heard light boots approach her and decided to ignore them. She was not prepared for socialization, and wouldn't be for another hour, until she was fully awake. To try to show the fact that she wasn't interested in conversation, she moved from her squatting position to sitting on her haunches, fully planted in the dirt. Wisps of hair fell in front of her face, preventing her even further from seeing who was standing before her.

"Rose?"

She knew that voice. And right now, that voice was pleading with her. Her hands froze in the dirt. Lightly, as if it didn't affect her at all, she got to her feet and then dipped back down into a curtsy. "Your majesty," she said politely, not meeting his gaze.

"Raise you up."

She stood taller now and leveled her gaze with him. He looked like he hand't gotten any sleep, his hair was in it's usual artful disarray, but he lacked his usual spark of electricity. She watched him quietly, waiting for him to speak. 'Speak when spoken to' she reminded herself. 

"Rose."

"Yes, your majesty?"

His eyebrows drew together. "Please don't call me that," he said, and he sounded as though there were tears creeping up on him. He cleared his throat softly. "Please."

She clasped her hands in front of her. She took a deep breath, "It is what I am to call you. As a servant it is my duty."

"You're not just a servant." He took a step towards her, and she took a step back. Reading her action, he moved back to a neutral position, allowing her to do the same. He didn't move his eyes from hers. "You've never been just a servant."

Rose got back down on her hands and knees, and the Prince squatted in front of her. She dug her hands into the dirt, keeping herself from throwing it at him. "I believe last night established exactly what I am, your majesty," she said coolly. 

"You have no idea what you are to me," he said fiercely. 

She leaned towards him, bringing her face close to his. She pretended not to notice when his gaze flicked to her mouth before coming back up to her eyes. Being this close to him, looking at him, almost made her forget what she was here to say. She lowered her voice to an almost seductive tone. "I'm just a body to warm your bed at night. Table scraps for when you grow tired of the full meals you've grown up on... Your majesty."

The look of shock on his face made her risky words completely worth it. "Rose, you would never be just-"

"I've a garden to tend to, your majesty," she said quietly, backing away from him. "Good day."

"Rose."

"Yes, your majesty?"

"John," He whispered quietly. "John, I'm John to you."

"That name for you should belong to your father and you fiancee," Rose replied.

"It doesn't. It belongs to you."

She shifted forwards and then back, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. Mostly because she very much wanted to tackle him into the dirt and kiss him until he couldn't breathe anymore.

He reached his hand to follow her and cup her cheek, but she jerked her head back. It was too much, she knew. She scooted back a touch extra for emphasis and went back to work. She'd dismissed him. He should leave. But he didn't; instead, he stayed and watched her. "I'll see you tonight, Rose," he said tentatively.

"I wouldn't bet a shilling on that, your majesty," she replied, not daring to look at him. She could practically feel his shoulders sag as he walked away from her.

She dropped herself completely to the ground when he left, her forehead pressed to her dirty hands. After a moment she took a deep breath and pushed herself back up to resume her weeding. She would forget him, she told herself. After all, she was but a garden servant. A speck on his shoe. A worthless woman in his bed. And she had work to do.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the last chapter! I'm glad you guys have enjoyed it, it makes me super happy, I love writing here. Thank you all so much!

Rose dragged herself along through her days after that for about a week.  She tended to the vegetables and managed to find time to finish with the flower beds she had begun just nine days before.  Part of her wanted to remember the deer, her hand in John's, but she firmly called her the Prince in her mind and wrote off any contact they'd had.

He would have no reason to come near her now, now that he knew how terribly useless she was to him.  He had to sort himself out and go into the arms of the woman he was to marry.  Part of her felt exceedingly dirty at the thought, and she managed to push it all from her mind.  It was too much to think about. 

She took supper in the kitchen with Donna, Jack, and Harold, and she found herself falling into the happy banter she'd been used to.  The other servants were either still doing their duties or eating in their chambers.  Rose didn't understand why the other servants isolated themselves so much.  Perhaps it was because they were so loud.  It was a wonder Harold at with them at all. As usual, he rolled his eyes good-naturedly at all of them every time someone made a joke.  He was an odd one, fresh out of prison and trying to get back on the righteous path.  Rose gave him credit for trying, at the very least. 

"Now, getting serious, Rose, are you going to need help harvesting within the next week?" Jack asked. 

Rose nodded, looking down and stirring her soup.  "Yes, I think I should.  There are two wheelbarrows and only one of me."

"I'll send someone to help you, Rose," Harold said, and somehow it sounded as though he was happy to do it but also as if it was a major inconvenience at the same time.  Rose often wondered how he managed things like that.

Jack shook his head.  "I can help her.  I can finish the polishing of the swords tomorrow."

Harold watched him for a moment.  "Alright," he agreed, shrugging his shoulders.

Donna had been quiet the whole dinner, watching Rose for signs of discomfort or upset, and found none.  The other woman seemed fine, and that did not seem to be a normal circumstance for a young woman to be in after events such as these.  Although Donna was suspicious, she decided it would not be best to bring it up in front of everyone else.  

She really did plan to take it up with Rose later, but a knock at the kitchen door threw all of that right out the window.  Rose lifted her head and stared at the closed door, her brows furrowed.  "That's odd," she said simply.  "No one knocks here."

"I'll get it," Jack said, standing from the table and untying Rose's apron strings as he passed her, leaving her grumbling and re-tying them while Donna laughed and Harold dared to crack a smile that didn't look completely evil.

He opened the door and immediately dropped into a bow.  "Your majesty."

Rose felt her stomach drop at the words.  Couldn't he just leave her alone?  Unfortunately, she was in a position that blocked her from seeing out the door and witnessing the exchange that was taking place in front of her.

"Raise you up," The Prince replied, and  _God,_ Rose thought, he sounded so  _tired._ _  
_

Jack rose obediently.  "May I ask why you have graced our kitchen this evening, your majesty?"  

"Is Rose Tyler among your midst tonight?" 

Jack fell silent at the Prince's question, clearly pondering what her should say.  He shifted awkwardly.  "I must remind you, if I may, your majesty, that with the harvest coming up, Rose's schedule is very busy.  She tends to the castle gardens."

"I am aware that Rose is busy," the Prince replied evenly.  "I would like to see her, in the hall, if possible."

Although it was posed as a request, Jack and everyone else knew that the Prince was demanding to see Rose.  Jack gave another shallow bow and came back into the kitchen, shaking his head lightly at Rose.

She felt the blood drain from her face.  She'd hoped Jack would be able to get her out of this, but understood why he couldn't and refused to hold it against him.  To prove this without words, she ruffled his hair fondly as she went by.  "Don't wait up," she said quietly to those in the kitchen.  She exited the room and shut the door behind her.  "Your majesty."

And if she thought he sounded tired, he looked even worse.  He had visible bags under his eyes, his satin dress shirt was wrinkled, and he was sagged forwards just the slightest bit.  She knew it showed on her face that it worried her, and part of her was relieved he could at least see that she cared, even if she couldn't reach out and touch him like she wanted to.  

"Rose," he breathed her name as if he hadn't seen her in months, and it made her feel oddly warm.  She looked down at her worn boots, not daring to face his earnest eyes.  Within a moment, though, she felt a gentle hand under her chin, tipping her face up to him.  "I have to speak with you."

She studied his face with the utmost care.  "I'm listening," she said quietly.

He blew out a heavy sigh of relief, and it seemed very much like he wanted to kiss her, but didn't.  "Can we go somewhere else?  Away from all the ears?"

Rose nodded, and he nodded back at her, and against her wishes, it made her giggle.  The smile that lit up his face in response could've put a star to shame, she was sure.  She let him lead her from the room, only growing a touch suspicious when she saw he was taking her to his room.

She slowed her steps.  "What business do we have here?"

"It's the only place I know we won't be bothered," The Prince replied.  

They both took a moment to watch each other, to see if she believed him or not.  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she nodded, and he nodded again before turning around and continuing to lead her, only praying that she would follow behind him.  Luck was on his side.  She followed.

He waved at the guard, signalling that everything was all right, and led her straight into his chambers.  "I'm afraid there's something I need to discuss with you," he said, suddenly all business.

Rose cocked an eyebrow in confusion.  "Alright," she agreed, folding her hands in front of her.  "I'm listening."

"Right," he sat down at his desk, and her eyes were drawn to the chair next to it, where he gestured for her to sit.

"Did you keep that there?" She whispered, not daring to hope.

"Yes," he said seriously, staring into her eyes. "I did."

She took the seat carefully, her eyes never leaving the Prince's.  "I'm listening," she said again, this time with a bit more sincerity than before.

"You said once that I should have a choice," The Prince said, "In who I marry, in what I do.  I've decided the choices are mine to take, as well as make, for myself."

Rose barely dared to hope, but she felt her heart jump in her chest despite her thoughts.  "And...  And what decision is that, my Prince?"

He grabbed the seat of the chair she was sitting on and tugged it closer to his.  "I"m John to you," he said, "That's my decision."

She blinked.  If he was implying what she thought he was, she could practically cry tears of happiness.  But she needed him to be sure, needed him to tell her explicitly what he thought and what was going on.  She watched him, her eyes boring into his, which looked more and more alight the longer they sat there.  "Are...  Are you saying-"

"I spoke with my father and the king and queen of our neighboring kingdom," John rushed out, "It was all arranged, and I broke it off.  Me, Rose, I did it, because I wanted to."

"So you're not-"

"Engaged?  No, not anymore," He reached out to cup her cheek, and she lifted a hand, not to push him away, but to keep him where he was.  "I had to, Rose, because I couldn't stop thinking about you all this time.  You're the most alive person I've ever met, and I am privileged to know you."

Rose tightened her grip on his hand.  "But you didn't know what I'd say to all this," she replied, "You still don't.  But you broke off the engagement anyway."

He nodded slowly.  "Because I don't want to be with someone who isn't you."  He removed his hand from her and got to his feet, turning away from her.  "I thought I could.  But I haven't slept in days.  I haven't stopped thinking about you, and believe me I've tried, because you left, and I thought maybe you were right, because you're very clever, Rose, really."

As he was talking she got to her feet and stood behind him.  "John?"

He whirled around at the use of his name, the name he'd given to her, she realized.  She was just standing there, watching him, and that image was far too tempting.  He cupped her cheeks in his hands and moved close to her, giving her a chance to move.  She didn't, instead, she tilted her chin up to give him better access to her mouth.  He let out a shaky breath.  "Is it possible that I'm in love with you?" He asked in a hushed voice.  

She would've answered, except his mouth was all of a sudden on hers and really, the whole thing was decided.  Her hands reached out to grip his shirt, the silky material sliding along her fingers as she curled them.  He let out a little breathy sigh into her mouth and pulled her closer, and this time, she didn't stop him.

It grew heated quickly, something Rose had not been anticipating, but was ready for all the same.  She let him take control of it as he opened his mouth against hers, trying to worship her through one kiss.  She'd never felt more loved, and she was touched by how much he really did love her.  She could feel it.  Oh.  She knew.  

He turned her and slowly moved her back towards the bed, and she most certainly let him.  She wanted him to.  He broke away from the kiss and tilted his forehead against hers, his thumbs stroking her cheeks.  "I want to marry you."

"I'm a servant."

"You're mine."

A thrill went through her at the words.  "That doesn't change who I am, John."

He shivered when she said his name.  "And that doesn't change the face that I want to marry you, Rose."

She laughed, really laughed, for the first time in a week.  She nodded emphatically, her fingers coming up to trace his cheeks as his hands fell to her waist.  "Yes," she whispered, "Yes, I'll marry you." 

He ducked his head to kiss her again and pushed her until her calves hit the back of the bed.  He reached behind her to untie her apron, and they fought it off of her, along with her overdress, leaving her in only a shift and her boots.  They broke apart to get out of their respective shoes, and seeing as Rose got hers off first, she climbed onto the bed and laid out on it, waiting for him to join her.  

She listened to him struggle for a few moments before he jumped onto the bed after her, landing between her thighs, his hands bracing himself up on either side of her head.  She smiled up at him and ran a hand up into his hair.  "This is the most comfortable bed I've ever been on."

He smiled at her.  "You'll be sleeping on it for the rest of your life, I promise," he said emphatically, dropping to kiss her neck, suckling at her pulse point.  Her hand stayed where it was, gripping his hair and keeping him where she wanted him.  

"I love you," she said suddenly, then bit her lip.  She'd never given those words to anyone, and here she was, giving them to a Prince.  

His lips stuttered over her skin and he pulled back up to face her.  "Rose Tyler," he said softly, and those words, and what he showed her next, told her everything she needed to know.

They were married within the week, neither of them wanting to wait, and Rose had never felt more beautiful, not because of the dress, but because of the way John looked at her.  

"Say it," he pleaded to her in a whisper that night, when they were wrapped up in each other, the feeling of skin contact the only thing either of them could think about.  "Please."

"John," she said quietly, "My John."

And with that, he was hers, and the kingdom had never been run more smoothly and beautifully then when King John and Queen Rose were at its head. 


End file.
